


Always hitting it off

by gottalovev



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, First Time, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Masturbation, Oblivious, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/pseuds/gottalovev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been on Derek's mind a lot since this years' Beacon Hills High contingent arrived in town to start college. For sure the obscene gesture Stiles makes while talking with Scott, implying he jerks off a lot, doesn't help that situation one bit.  (College AU, see notes for details)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always hitting it off

**Author's Note:**

> Several weeks ago, footage of an interview by ClevverTV. "What's up with…. Teen Wolf" featuring Crystal Reed, Tyler Posey and Dylan O'Brien came out. In that particular video they talked about what was in store for their characters romantically in 3B (there was also some rapping and penis jokes). This fic takes Tyler's words about everyone's love life as seen starting at the 2 minute mark, and Dylan's infamous jerking-off motion that came out of it (it can be reminisced about on tumblr [here](http://kira-yukimura.tumblr.com/post/73014074396), too), and puts them in Scott's mouth. Beware of spoilers in the interview and the YouTube comments if you haven't seen 3B at all, but if you are up to date with the episodes it's fine for the video.
> 
> Written for [Beacon_Hills](http://beacon-hills.livejournal.com) on LJ, this is set in a AU where no one died (no Paige and no Kate drama for Derek), and now everyone is in college. There is an allusion to recreational drug use - smoking pot - but _if_ it happened, it was off screen.
> 
> Much thanks to [Jesse](http://jesseofthenorth.livejournal.com) for the beta job, as always so appreciated <3

"Absolutely everything about college is _awesome_ ," Scott McCall is saying, so mellow that it's obvious he's either drunk or baked. Most probably baked. 

A quick look reveals that he's slouched in one of the chairs lined against the living room's wall of whomever is throwing this particular party, sitting between Allison Argent and the Stilinski kid – Stiles, who is he kidding, of course Derek knows his name is Stiles. The guy has been on his mind a lot since this years' Beacon Hills High contingent arrived in town to start college. Allison, who is wearing a black dress that is way to classy for this party, is sitting on Scott's right and listens to every word he says intently. Stiles, on Scott's left, is sprawled indecently, almost as if he has no spine. 

Derek thinks about what Scott just said and he snorts derisively: Scott should try to find the guy who's busy throwing up in the potted plant in the corner sometimes tomorrow morning and ask him if everything about college is so awesome. Heck, Scott himself will think differently when he'll have to choose between sleep and grades in a couple of weeks. Freshmen are clueless.

"You've got your judging eyebrows on," Cora says, bringing Derek back to the here and now. 

"I do not," Derek protests automatically. His little sister is also a freshman in his college this year, which is another complication in Derek's life. Especially since she now lives with him.

"Do too!" she sing-songs, linking arms with him. "You'll get stuck like that one day."

Derek is pretty sure that he hasn't rolled his eyes this frequently since he was fifteen. 

"Why are you annoying me?" Derek asks.

"Because I'm bored, and making fun of you is entertaining," she replies with a grin.

"Why aren't you making fun of your friends instead?" Derek says, turning her towards the other Beacon Hills kids. "It should be easy!"

They are easy targets for a laugh, the lot of them. Especially since Scott is now gushing about how they are all fortunate enough to have a special someone in their lives. 

"Lydia has got Aiden, Ethan and Danny are together, me and Kira," Scott pauses for a second to blink, as if he can't believe his luck about said Kira. "Isaac and Allison are hitting it off-" he continues, with Allison barely reacting to the statement. 

But then Scott hits a wall. "Stiles and…" he trails off and Derek listens in, curious. "Stiles!" Scott says with conviction, palm up as he motions to the guy.

Stiles, who had been bobbing his head in agreement throughout the tirade nods empathically this time, looking up right at Derek as he completes Scott's sentence with "are always hitting it off!" he says, moving his hand near his lap in a jerking-off motion. He then _winks_ at him and Derek almost chokes on air.

"Yeah, deep, very deep," Scott agrees, as if what his friend said is so clever, while Stiles' eyes cut to the side, seemingly back in his drugged up stupor. Joke's done, moving on.

Annoyed that he let Stiles throw him off kilter _again_ , Derek tows Cora towards the French door leading to the back yard.

"Come on, I need some air," he grumbles.

"Uh huh," she says. "Getting a little bit hot under the collar, bro?"

Cora's always been too perceptive.

"It reeks in here. The smell of weed gives me a headache," Derek says, which is true. 

"Yeah, me too, and it can't even make us high. What a bummer," she says, following easily enough. "By the way… it just hit me that Stiles Stilinski, of all people, is now kind of hot? Who would have thought? I might regret turning him down in tenth grade now." 

"He asked you out?" Derek asks, feeling a stab of jealousy instead of the protective older brother vibe that would be appropriate.

Cora hums. "Yeah. I guess he was bereft as you were gone to college. It was a classic case of transference to the next available Hale."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Derek asks. Obviously Cora is taking her psych classes way too seriously, and is imagining things to boot.

She laughs. "Come on, Stiles has had a massive boner for you since he discovered the fun zone in his pants. Everyone knows that. You knew that, right?"

No, Derek definitely hadn't known that. Honestly he wouldn't have cared the slightest before, in High School, because back then Stiles was just the weird Sheriff's kid. Now, though, three years later, he shows up to college all grown up, with tousled hair, wide shoulders and lean muscles… A former crush is suddenly interesting information, you know, for possibilities. But is it still true?

"You didn't know? Oh my god, Derek, you are hopeless. He all but trailed after you like a puppy, admittedly from afar." Cora is having way to much fun teasing him.

"I had no idea," Derek says. "But now kindly shut up, or I'll throw you in this pool, so help me god," he threatens. 

"For crying out loud, he used to come to all of your baseball games! Who does that without a crush?"

"People who like baseball, Cora!" Derek says, exasperated. 

It's clear that she won't let it go, so when she starts saying "Even the away games?" Derek grabs a hold of her and quickly approaches the pool. Cora thrashes but can't avoid the dip, though she does take a hold of him in a way that he topples in the pool too.

Derek didn't expect the water to be so cold. He barely has surfaced when Cora, absolutely furious, dunks him again.

"Asshole!" she yells – it's clear even through water - and Derek has to fight back to avoid getting drowned. He's stronger, though, and manages to circle her flailing limbs with his own arms, trapping her, which gives him a break.

"I warned you," Derek says once both of their heads are out of the water.

Even though Cora is still fuming, she has enough control to hold in her wolf. She probably doesn't claw him just because they have a public, now: their impromptu splash attracted attention. Half of the party is now either on the terrace or looking through the windows at what is going on.

"You're a jackass," Cora spits, long dark hair plastered to her face. 

Derek starts smiling. He _has_ missed her. "I know."

"What the fuck are you smiling about?" she grumbles. Derek feels Cora relax slightly, enough to know that the blunt of the danger is gone. He lets her go. 

"Your face," Derek says, and jumps away laughing when Cora tries to splash water in his eyes.

"I'm going to make you pay for this," Cora threatens, but the corner of her mouth is lifting in a smile. 

Derek shrugs. "You're always making my life miserable, anyway."

He turns and walks to the side of the pool, his surprisingly good mood dimming when he sees that they still have an audience. Derek doesn't like to draw attention to himself, and now there are stares and laughs. He gets out of the pool and gives a hand to Cora for help. She does try to pull him back in for payback, but Derek expected it, so it doesn't work and he simply smirks at her efforts. Only once they are standing there and dripping on the concrete does Derek realize that he should have put in a little more thought before acting. They need new clothes, or at least something to dry off, and Derek doesn't know whomever lives here at all. Allison comes out on the terrace with a towel in her arms. 

"Are you okay?" Allison asks, throwing Derek an accusing glance before draping the towel around Cora's shoulders.

"I'm fine, apart for having an idiot for a brother," Cora replies. She tuts loudly when Derek tries to take a corner of the towel to at least dry his face. "Nu huh, find your own towel, you brought this on yourself."

"Fine," Derek says as Cora and Allison go back in the house. Derek was about done with this party anyway, he'll just go home. 

His wet t-shirt is uncomfortably clingy, so Derek decides to at least wring it to get rid of the excess water. He's in the process of pulling it off, wet fabric over his face, when he hears a soft strangled. "Jesus Christ."

It turns out to be Stiles, now on the terrace too, looking very resolutely at the ground, and then rapidly at Derek's face only to stare over his shoulder. It's weird, but Stiles is always a little weird. 

"Nice dive," he says, and then offers Derek a hoodie. "Not sure it will fit you, but at least it's dry."

Derek wrings his t-shirt, uses it to wipe off the excess water on himself, and then lets it fall to the ground to takes the hoodie from Stiles. Stiles was wearing it earlier, but he got it off some time in the evening to stay just in his long-sleeved purple t-shirt.

"Thanks," Derek says, as he slips it on. 

He's still damp, so it clings a bit, but it's a marked improvement upon completely wet. Derek might be a lot more muscular than Stiles, but the hoodie is large enough at the shoulders to fit. As he zips it up, Derek muses that he'd normally never wear something with that many colors, but beggars can't be choosers. 

"I don't have any spare pants, though," Stiles says, and Derek catches him staring at his thighs. It's probably just because Derek's wet and he looks ridiculous.

"It's fine. I'm leaving, anyway." 

"Oh. Right." Stiles sounds disappointed. 

Derek scoops up his t-shirt and when he takes a step, there's a wet sound from his sneakers that make Stiles sniggers. It's embarrassing, and Derek feels his cheeks heat up.

"That must be uncomfortable." Stiles says.

"It is," he admits. "Thanks again for the shirt. Good night, Stiles."

"Not a problem. Have a good night too."

Since Derek doesn't care about embarrassing himself any longer than necessary, he gives Stiles a curt nod and leaves. He should try to find Cora to offer a lift back to the apartment, but she's out of sight at the moment, probably still with Allison. Confident she'll find someone to drive her home, Derek goes to his car and sighs thinking of how he's going to get the seat wet on top of everything. He knew he shouldn't have come to this shitty party in the first place.

***

A hot shower makes Derek feel marginally better. He's moving his wet clothes to the bath (it's not like he can start a load of laundry at one in the morning, his neighbors would bitch for months) when he pauses, Stiles' hoodie in his hand. The material is soft, and on impulse Derek brings it to his face to smell it. The stench of pot and chlorine cling to the fabric, but there is also the scent Stiles and himself mixed underneath, and that goes directly to his dick. 

"Dammit," Derek curses, as his traitorous cock fill up. 

Then Derek thinks about Stiles making that casual jerking off motion and he's fully hard in no time at all. His crush is getting out of control, slowly turning into an obsession, and Derek doesn't need that complication, not at all. Stiles is a freshman who probably just want to get high, drink and sleep around now that he's out of the nest and on his own for the first time. There is nothing wrong with it, not really, but Derek has tried meaningless hookups and it'd not for him.

He needs to get Stiles out of his head, sooner rather than later, but Derek decides to succumb to fantasy, just for tonight. He locks his bedroom door and brings the sweater with him to bed, cheeks burning with shame but his cock rock hard at the idea of getting off with Stiles' scent. He loses the pajama pants and now lying down on his bed, Derek closes his eyes and puts the soft fabric over his nose and mouth, breathing in deeply. He's so turned on that he doesn't need lube to make it good, pre-come easing the slide of his hand. Derek is on the edge of coming in no time at all, imagining that it's Stiles long fingers on his dick. Three flicks of the wrist later Derek comes all over his fist, panting harshly and still yearning for _more_. 

He's definitely in trouble. 

***

It's been three days and Derek can't stop thinking about that night. Stiles' little jerking off motion is branded in his brain, but it's the wink that he made at Derek afterwards that drives him mad. Was it just to punctuate the joke, to take Derek as a witness? Or was it flirting? Also there's what Cora said, that Stiles used to have a big crush on him in high school. He does remember Stiles being around often, though Derek had always though of him as Cora's friend, it's not as if they'd talk or anything. 

Derek is lost in though, almost back to his apartment after a frustrating day where he zoned out in class instead of listening to the lessons, when he hears his named called out.

"Hey, Derek!"

It's Stiles, backpack on one shoulder and easy smile on his face, walking towards him. Derek is totally unprepared to see him in the flesh and he freezes.

"Hey," he says back, a bit stilted. He feels like running away and it must show.

Stiles' smile dims a little and Derek curses his inability to interact with people like a regular human being. 

"Do you live around here?" Derek asks, giving it his best shot anyway. It doesn't matter that he knows the answer – no, Stiles doesn't leave near at all - but he's trying.

"Nah, I'm in the dorms. But Lydia lives right here," Stiles says, pointing at the apartment block next to Derek's. 

"I know, Cora was pretty excited about that," Derek says, and then point to his own apartment block. "We're in this one."

"I know," Stiles says, nodding, but then he turns pink. "I mean Cora mentioned it. In our study session. That we just finished."

The way he's flustered is adorable, and it makes Derek relax, somehow. Maybe Cora was on to something, after all, it's possible that Stiles does like him. Or used to like him, and now he's nervous because it's always weird to talk to a former crush. 

"Do you want to come up?" Derek surprises himself with the question. Stiles' eyes widen and Derek hurries to add. "I still have your hoodie."

"Oh, yes! Sure," Stiles says, smiling again. 

The invitation was maybe not the smartest move on Derek's part, though. Now that he's climbing the stairs, Stiles unusually silent behind him, he doesn't know what to do. Thankfully it's early in the semester and Cora has turned out to be a tidy roommate, so their place looks fine. 

"Oh, nice," Stiles says, looking around. He walks to the edge of the living room, finger running on one of the many bookcases Derek managed to fit in without, he hopes, making the place look too crowded. "Lots of books."

Derek chuckles. "I might have a problem," he admits. "I call it the curse of the history major, I want all of the books."

"It's pretty cool," Stiles says, crouching to check a row of old encyclopedias. The position stretches the fabric of his pants on his ass in fantastic ways. 

Derek looks away as soon as realizes that he's staring and he walks to the fridge, putting his face in the cool air in hope to come back to his senses. He pulls out two beers, twists the caps off, and takes a swing in one. When he goes back in the living room, he offers the second to Stiles who accepts it with a smile.

"Thanks. It must be nice to have your own place," he says, gesturing around.

"Yes. Sharing it with my little sister? Less fun," Derek admits. 

Stiles makes a face. "You should see my room. It's tiny and my roommate is weird." 

"Couldn't be with Scott?" Derek asks. Those two are almost joined at the hips, Derek thought they'd be together.

"We're working on getting the permission to switch roommates," Stiles says, taking a sip of his beer. "You were staying with Laura before, right?"

"Yes, but she finished her doctorate and moved to New York with her fiancé. Mom insisted I take in Cora, even though she knows we fight all the time."

"Saw that at the party," Stiles says with a smirk.

"Right." Which reminds Derek that he asked Stiles up to give him back his sweatshirt. "Speaking of," he says, walking to his room. 

Dammit, he knew he should have washed it, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not when the hoodie still smelled like Stiles a little. It's on his pillow, of all places, and Derek almost jumps out of his skin when he hears Stiles make a choked off sound as he grabs it. He hadn't even noticed that Stiles had followed him, and is now coughing, face red and making wheezing sounds. Derek would be embarrassed of being caught with the shirt in his bed, but he's more worried that Stiles will choke to death.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Stiles wipes tears out of his eyes and nods. "Yes, sorry, I swallowed wrong."

"Can't hold your beer?" Derek teases. He probably shouldn't even have given Stiles alcohol, he's not 21 yet. 

He laughs. 

"It's not that," Stiles says, gesturing to Derek, the hoodie and the bed. "Let's just say that fifteen years old me surfaced and had a mild seizure at the sight of my clothes in your bed."

Derek raises his eyebrow, surprised at the admission. Stiles looks a bit sheepish, but he's still smiling, so he's not that embarrassed at confessing his past crush.

"So Cora wasn't making that up, after all," he says.

"You didn't know?" Stiles says, eyes boggling. "Well thank god for small mercies, I thought you were just too nice to laugh about it in my face. I was pretty pathetic, looking back."

It annoys Derek, somehow. He would never mock someone for a crush.

"Not my style. But if it makes you feel better, I'm really bad at realizing if someone is interested in me. Laura says I'm the most oblivious person on the planet."

Derek supposes it would be less weird to go back to the living room, now, so as he gets out of the room he gives Stiles his shirt. He's not going to miss it, because _that_ would be pathetic. 

"What does it take for you to notice? A note with 'I like you, do you like me? Check yes or no?'" Stiles asks as he follows Derek.

It makes Derek laugh. 

"Those were simpler times, yes. Call of Duty?" he asks, pointing at the console. He's bad at chitchat, but a game would be an easy way to keep Stiles here a little longer.

"Sure, if you don't mind getting you ass kicked," Stiles says as he sits on the couch and Derek grins before turning to set the game up. 

Their banter is easy, and Derek thinks it could be nice, being Stiles' friend if nothing else. It takes a minute to set the TV and PS3 with the game, but when he turns to the couch with the controllers he sees that Stiles has taken a pen and a legal pad from Cora's school stuff on the coffee fable and is scribbling something down. He looks up at Derek with a nervous smile, and Derek frowns, wondering what is going on.

"Oooookay," Stiles says, rips the page off, folds it twice, then extends it at Derek. "So this is me, going old school."

Derek's heart is pounding double time as he looks at the sheet of paper. Once opened it's just what he thought, given their earlier conversation. Well close enough, anyway.

I like you (a lot) do you like me?  
Check one  
[] Definitely, I totally want your babies one day  
[] Yes, let's have sex  
[] Yes, but not like that, sorry, don't make this weird please  
[] No, I'd prefer if you'd get out of my house right now and we'll never speak of this ever again

Okay, so this is happening. Derek can't take his eyes off the paper, so he puts his hand out. "Pen?"

With a choked out laugh, Stiles passes it over. The right answer not to scare Stiles away is probably the second, but it's without hesitation that he checks the first box, underlines babies and writes "3 and +" above, then he adds 'let's start with dating' next to it. It has the merit of being clear, he thinks. As an after thought, he checks the second box too, underlying the "Let's have sex". Derek then refolds the paper before giving back to Stiles, who's doing a bad job of looking nonchalant. 

"There's supposed to be a middle person for this," Derek muses to hide his own nerves. 

Stiles was about to open the paper but he looks up at Derek with a smirk. "We can wait until Cora comes back?"

Derek laughs. "No, thank you. I'd like not being teased for the rest of my life. Go on."

Stiles hurries to unfold the paper and his grin is huge when he reads the message. He looks up, eyes sparking. "Awesome. I want that, too."

Just the sex and the dating or if it includes possible babies is ambiguous, but Derek will take it.

"Good, that's good," Derek says, walking to Stiles and climbing right onto his lap. It's not like he can resist anymore, and he wants to touch, to taste, to smell. 

"Holy mother of Jesus," Stiles is saying as Derek bends his head to drag his nose at the side of Stiles neck. He takes a deep breath, happy to find the smells of joy and arousal under mild anxiety. He knew, by the hoodie, that he loved Stiles' scent but this is intoxicating.

Stiles puts his fingers in Derek's hair and moves him in place for a kiss, their lips meeting softly at first, lingering. It's crazy how fast Derek's heart is beating right now, blood pounding in his ears. He's gripping the back of the couch behind Stiles almost desperately, and when they kiss again it's a bit surer, firmer. It makes Derek bold enough to delicately touch Stiles' lower lip with the tip of his tongue and the way he opens up for him with a groan is beautiful. The kiss turns wet in deep in no time at all, Stiles' fingers tightening in Derek's hair in a way that sends a jolt right to his cock. 

"I really hope this isn't a dream," Stiles says when they part to breathe. Derek chuckles, rubbing his jaw against Stiles'. It's reassuring to know he wasn't the only one making up scenarios about them.

"Nah," he says, nibbling at Stiles' earlobe. It's soft and cute and Derek's favorite earlobe ever, especially since biting it makes Stiles arch up towards him.

"How would you know? I have awesome dreams. You've starred in them for a long time."

"Because if this was a dream, the clothes would be gone already," Derek argues. 

Stiles laughs. "Okay, maybe you're right. But this is good, too."

He lets go of Derek's hair to caress the width of his shoulders, and then slide down to his pecs, detouring to his sides. Once at the waist, Stiles slips his hands under Derek's t-shirt and his touch burns. Derek groans at the sensation and hurries tugs at the collar of Stiles' t-shirt, wanting it off so he can touch at his turn. Stiles obliges, but hurries to peel Derek's off, too.

"How are you even real?" Stiles says, eyes roaming Derek's body and face in a way that makes him self-conscious. Derek's not stupid, he knows he looks good, but sometimes that's all that people see. They don't care about him at all.

"Just some working out," he mumbles, going in for a kiss again. Stiles' one to talk with his wide shoulders and stupid moles.

There is more making out, which is fantastic, and Derek groans when Stiles grabs his ass to haul him closer. They can rub and grind together like this, and Derek's already close to coming, he's so turned on. 

"Oh god, yes," Stiles says. "Let me just…"

He pushes Derek's hip away, which is a bad idea and Derek starts to protest until Derek sees that it's to give Stiles space to open their pants. He hurries to help, shoving his pants and underwear out of the way as Stiles does the same.

"Fuck, yes," Derek swears when Stiles wraps his sinfully long fingers around them both. He's not sure he's ever seen something hotter.

"I'm not going to last," Stiles says, voice almost strangled as he starts to pull on their dicks.

"Me neither," Derek admits, forehead against Stiles and unable to look away. 

Stiles moves his hands with a flick of the wrist like he did the other night and that's it, game over. Derek jerked off so much thinking about the move that he's unable to hold on. He comes with a grunt, screwing his eyes shut because he's worried they'll shine gold. It feels good, so good, pleasure sucker punching him hard.

"Oh, god, Derek," Stiles says and Derek hurries to pull the wolf in to watch Stiles coming all over his hand and their cocks. 

It's obscene in the best ways, and already Derek can't wait until they do it again. He grabs Stiles' head in his hands and kisses him deep, possessive even. Stiles makes a keening sound as he answers in kind, and Derek eases off only when it's necessary to breathe.

"Whoa."

Stiles' eyes are only half opened, cheeks completely flushed and his mouth bruised. He's gorgeous and looks completely sex-stupid, which makes Derek grin widely: he did that.

"Uh huh," he agrees. 

Stiles reaches up with his left hand and cups Derek's face, thumb sweeping along Derek's cheek.

"You really like me." Stiles says, as if completely awed. 

"Definitely," Derek says, kissing him again. It's addictive, he can't help himself.

"Awesome," Stiles says against Derek's lip. He then grins widely. "This is right out of a fantasy, I swear. I fucking love college, man."

Derek can't help it, he starts laughing. Yes, college is pretty great, sometimes. It's going to be even better now.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. I could not get that little jerking-off motion and wink out of my head. Thanks for ruining my life, Dylan O'Brien!!! ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed. :)
> 
> (as a FYI, I'm on Tumblr [here](http://mariloucoco.tumblr.com), new friends & asks are welcome :) )


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